


Classic TV fics

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Adam Adamant Lives!, Callan (TV), Colditz (1972), Justice 1971, Only When I Laugh (TV), Raffles - E. W. Hornung, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 9,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22032514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Various fics/ficlets for fave Classic TV programmes.
Comments: 48
Kudos: 15





	1. Colditz- Winter- Simon and Mohn

A snowflake fell upon Simon’s cheek and then another onto the palm of his hand as he raised it into the air. Soon snow was falling heavily around him and the courtyard began transforming from a dull lifeless grey to a glorious white.

Suddenly a looming figure hovered over him, casting a shadow over where he sat, huddled for warmth in the corner.

“Enjoying the snow, Mr. Carter?”

Of course it was Major Mohn, who else would it be? Whenever there as a sense of impending doom, Mohn was sure to be found at the centre of it.

“Enjoying our winter, Mr. Carter?” He was pressing Simon for an answer.

“Not particularly.” Simon sniffed, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck and blowing the tips of his fingers which felt frozen, uncovered by his tatty fingerless gloves.

“I myself have experience far colder temperatures than this and far more harrowing conditions.” Mohn held his head high with pride.

“I expect you’ve had experience of coldness your whole life, Major.”

Mohn’s lips quivered ever so slightly. He studied Simon’s fingers with his eyes, how red they looked, how in need of warmth. “Cold hands, Mr. Carter?”

“Yes, but better cold hands than a cold heart.”

Mohn’s lips curled into a smile and he paced one single step closer. “No Christmas card from Cathy yet to boost your morale?”

Folding his arms, Simon sighed. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“How warm she must be. A roaring fire, another person’s touch maybe?”

Simon almost sprung up from his chair but stopped himself, instead glancing at his friends who were playing football to keep warm. He wished to join them but his injury meant he was still quite unable to play. Another reason to dislike Mohn. 

“Why are you still here?” Simon finally said, unable to focus on anything other than Mohn’s figure standing against the falling snow, seeming to block out the light. That was how Simon believed the Major saw himself, as ruler over him, above him, to taunt him.

“You should wrap up warmer, Mr. Carter.”

“Why, are you concerned for my well-being?”

Mohn’s face showed no sign of feeling. It was like ice, so solid that not even a crack appeared. But Simon wanted to break it and hoped one day he could.

Reaching into his pocket, Mohn pulled out an envelope. “Your card from Cathy.” He threw it to him as though Simon were a dog playing fetch.

“Well then you better read it first,” Simon muttered.

“I don’t intend to read it.”

“Full of the tidings of Christmas, are we Major? Peace to your fellow man? Missing your loved ones?” Simon’s eyes locked on Mohn’s.

But Mohn’s eyes looked away first and he seemed to be processing something in his mind. He spun on his heels and turned away sharply.

Simon sneered. “Merry Christmas to you too, Major.”


	2. Justice- Exhausted- James and Harriet

When James Eliot knocked on the door to Miss. Peterson’s office and heard no reply, he opened it to find Harriet asleep at her desk, her head resting on her arms. Underneath was a pile of paperwork.

“Harriet?” James said with a smile. “Harriet? Wakey wakey.” She didn’t rouse at his call so he gently nudged her elbow. “Harriet? It’s the voice of God, commanding you to wake up and go home.”

Suddenly Harriet’s eyes sprung open and she rose from her position. “What’s going on?”

“You fell asleep.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small mirror. She frowned when she saw her usual coiffured hair was unruly and her lipstick was now smudged above her lip. “Not a word, James.” She wiped the lipstick away and straightened her hair as best she could

“Busy day?”

“You know full well it was. I’ve been on my feet for twelve hours and haven’t been to bed for forty-eight.”

“Apart from that little siesta on your desk.”

She rose an eyebrow. “James, I can hardly take your humour at the best of times.”

He helped her to her feet. “Come along, Harriet, I’ll take you back to mine.”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m an invalid or even worse a potential date?”

He laughed. “Like a friend. I don’t think you should drive if you’re that tired, besides, Ian’s away isn’t he, why don’t I cook you some dinner?”

“Are you all that desperate, James?”

“Of course not but I bought some new saucepans.”

“Well what girl can turn down an invitation like that?”

…

Helping Harriet out of the car door, James led her inside and poured her a drink as she sat down in one of the white stylish armchairs.

“I’ve no idea why you’ve taken pity on me. It’s hardly the first time I’ve had a tiring day. Really James, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Never said you weren’t, wouldn’t dare. If I’m honest, I’m shattered too, could do with a bit of company to stop me falling asleep.”

“Well don’t fall asleep whilst cooking, that could be hazardous.”

“And you’ll file a law suit against me?”

They both laughed.

“What’s on the menu then?” she asked, trying to get comfortable on the modern furniture more made for style than comfort.

“Curry alright?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll give it a bit of kick, keep us on our toes.”

“I’ll give you a kick in a minute if you don’t get moving.”

“Yes Harriet, at your command, Harriet.”

As he was about to leave, she called him back. “Thanks for inviting me, James.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “My pleasure. We must take care of each other.”


	3. Raffles Christmas poem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a creature was stirring. Raffles/Bunny. Decided to do a poem based on ‘Twas the night before Christmas’

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Albany,  
not a creature was stirring, not even dear Bunny.  
He’d fallen asleep in the glow of the room,  
waiting for Raffles who’d be home soon.

In the candlelight, he slept, dreaming away-  
of kisses from Raffles and rolls in the hay,  
of laughter they’d share as daylight arrived,  
telling their stories of deeds they’d survived.

When all of a sudden, a key in the lock,  
awoke dear Bunny with a terrible shock.  
Some footsteps were heard on the wood of the floor,  
someone was standing there at the door.

In the light, Raffles stood, like an angel to greet him,  
and a hat for a halo with a very large brim.  
A cloak on his back and a grin on his face,  
Raffles had arrived back to his place.

His hands held a sapphire, sparkling bright blue,  
a string of pearls joined it with rubies too.  
A palm full of treasures dazzled and gleamed,  
the beauty he held was more than he dreamed.

“Now Bunny, dear Bunny, isn’t it grand?  
There’s loot for us both, give me your hand.”  
Bunny was shocked, his eyes open wide,  
“You’ve stolen all this without me?” he cried.

“I had to, dear Bunny, for you were asleep,  
lost in adventures and dreams that were deep.”  
“Oh Raffles,” he said, “I’m so glad you’re home.  
This Christmas for once, I’ll not be alone.”

They snuggled as one, by the warmth of the fire,  
being together, their one true desire.  
The jewels on the table were sparkling so bright,  
and so did their love— Merry Christmas, good night!


	4. Callan- Bah Humbug- Callan and Meres

Noticing Callan asleep on a chair in Hunter’s office, Meres crept over to him and placed Christmas tinsel around his neck until he was brightly decorated in red and gold.

Callan’s eyes suddenly sprung open when he felt the tinsel tickle his cheeks. “Here, what’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s Christmas Day, old boy, don’t tell me you didn’t realise?”

Callan pulled the tinsel away. “I was hoping I slept through it.”

“Don’t be an old scrooge. Surely there’s something you’re hoping Father Christmas will bring you.”

“Yeah a bit of kip.”

Meres laughed and then placed some plates of food onto the table. “Liz got us a few treats so we can celebrate in…relatively cheap style.”

Callan groaned as he looked at the unappealing sausage rolls. “Too early for that lark.”

“Someone got up on the wrong side this morning.”

Callan ran his hand through his hair. “I never got up because I never went home. Christmas day, Boxing day, Valentine’s day, it’s all the bloody same to me, Toby.”

“You can at least have a glass of wine.” Meres handed him a glass and Callan drunk it hastily, ignoring the bits that dribbled down his chin.

“There you are, old boy, getting into the spirit.”

“No, I’m not. Wake me up when it’s New Year. Where’s Hunter anyway, he called me here for a meeting?”

There was a grin from Meres. “No, he didn’t. That was me. I knew you wouldn’t come if you didn’t think it was work related. Merry Christmas David, time to party.”

“You what?” He rubbed his bleary eyes. “A party?”

Suddenly a burst of music filled the room and Liz and some other colleagues entered, dancing to the music. Liz kissed Callan on the cheek, leaving a lipstick mark.

When there was no reaction, Meres pulled Liz aside. “Ignore him, he’s in one of those bah humbug moods. Isn’t that right, old boy?” Meres leaned down and kissed him on the other cheek.

“Get off!” Callan was already wiping his cheek.

“You doth protest too much, David.”

Callan was about to reply but noticed there was suddenly a conga line with Meres at the front. At first, he thought he was imagining it and then suddenly he found himself hoisted from his seat and leading the line. Meres’ arms clutched tightly around his waist and he was being nudged to get moving.

With only a slight smirk he reluctantly moved forward a few paces. “Alright, alright, I get it. It’s all a bit of a laugh. Toby, could you let go?”

Meres laughed. “Alright, everyone, let the old man rest, he needs to get his beauty sleep.”

Callan fell back into his chair, closed his eyes and tried to ignore the thumping music. Maybe if he fell asleep long enough it’d be spring!

He felt a blanket being laid across his back.

“Nighty night, David.”


	5. Sherlock Holmes- Bath- Holmes and Watson

With a bundle of parcels under my arm, I entered Holmes’ sitting room to find it empty. The room was in a state of disarray with boxes and Christmas decorations strewn across the floor as though my friend had disappeared in the middle of something important which was not too uncommon if one knew my friend as I did.

“Holmes! I say, Holmes, are you here?”

There came no reply but I did hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. I made my way to the bathroom door and hovered outside for a moment, listening. “Holmes, is that you in there?”

There was no reply again but I could still hear the running water. I flung open the door and there he was, lying in the bath, his head submerged.

“My goodness! Holmes!” I scrambled to his side and wrenched him up, pulling him under the arms until he was above the water. Luckily, he was still breathing and alert.

He looked at me then with irritation in his eyes. “Watson, what are you doing blundering into my experiment?”

“Experiment, I thought you were drowning?”

“Why would I be drowning? Really Watson!” He sat up comfortably. “Your concern is admirable but I’m simply trying to determine how Mrs. Hawker was murdered in the bath.”

Noticing the tap was still running, I reached and turned it off. “Could you try and do that without flooding the bathroom?”

“Hmm?” Holmes was peering around the tub, inspecting some residue on the side, which I didn’t dare to ask the origins of.

“Well I’m sorry to interrupt matters, Holmes, it’s simply that you did promise to help me put up the tree and the decorations.”

“Tree? Decorations? For what?”

“Christmas, Holmes!”

“Mrs. Hudson does that.”

“But I want us to do it together.”

He smirked. “Well then together we shall if it means that much to you, my dear Watson. Why did you raise my head above the water though, I was getting somewhere?”

“I didn’t want you to drown. As tempting as it was to leave you, I had an attack of conscience.”

Holmes let out a short burst of laughter before his face was serious again. “Ha Watson, you are a genius!”

“I am?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t consider it before.”

With a flash, he was out of the bathtub, stark-naked, and pacing the floor. “Yes!”

“Holmes, er…a towel perhaps?”

He ignored me and I looked around for a clean one. There was one hanging on the door but by the time I grabbed it, he was already out of the room, leaving a trail of soap and water, creating a rather foamy concoction in the sitting room.

“Holmes, towel!”

He was still naked, still pacing around the room.

“MRS HUDSON! MRS HUDSON!” he screamed as he headed to the door to the hall.

My eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t possibly greet Mrs. Hudson is such a state of nakedness! I raced forward, leapt over the armchair, nearly twisted my ankle but made it just in time to slam the door he had just opened.

“In a moment, Mrs. Hudson,” I said as I heard a tapping on the door.

I threw the towel at Holmes. “For goodness sake, your towel!”

He looked down at it and then suddenly laughed. “Oh, yes, thank you, Watson, it is rather chilly.”


	6. The Adventures of Sir Lancelot- Snow

“Lancelot! Lancelot! Come and look outside!” Brian was wrapped up warm in a cloak and his face was red from the biting winter chill. The squire was shuffling on the spot, hardly able to contain his excitement.

Lancelot allowed his squire to lead him out of the castle to where snowflakes fell softly and delicately onto the already layer of white upon the grass. He laughed. “What’s the matter, Brian? Have you never seen snow before?”

“Not since I was a boy, Lancelot, and I could never play in it because I always had chores to do.”

“You still have chores to do!”

“Oh.” Brian’s head dropped downwards, sending white from his hair onto the ground.

Feeling guilty, Lancelot smiled and held his hands into the air, catching some tiny snowflakes onto his gloved hand which then melted with the touch. “I will admit to there being a certain magic in this whiteness. I wonder if Master Merlin had anything to do with this sudden snowy landscape.”

He moved two steps in the snow and felt it crunch under the weight of his heavy boots. He was so caught up in the sensation that he wasn’t aware of Brian collecting some snow and launching it at him. A pile of white powdery snow landed upon Lancelot’s cheek with a thud.

“Brian! Come here at once!” Lancelot commanded as he wiped the snow from his face.

A sheepish looking Brian walked forward to where his stern-faced master waited for him. Knowing he was in for a telling-off, he looked to the ground and was about to begin his inevitable apology when with a surprise he felt a hand on his hair and realised Lancelot was ruffling it. The grin on Lancelot’s face was a wonderful sight and for a few moments they admired the snow together, arms around each other’s shoulders, basking in the glow of the winter’s morning. With everyone mesmerized by the snow, Camelot was silent.


	7. The Adventures of Sir Lancelot- Masquerade

Dressed in a fine tunic and some pantaloons, Lancelot arrived for the grand masquerade ball. The King and Queen were seated on their royal thrones, watching as all the guests filtered into the large hall. With eager eyes, Lancelot scanned the room in search of the Lady Angela who had agreed to be in attendance and would meet him there at sundown, dressed in crimson.

A sea of blue, green and purple gowns greeted him until he spotted a lady dressed in red by the banquet table. Her blonde hair was in ringlets and an elaborate gold and silver mask concealed her face.

“Lady Angela,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it gently. “How divine you look.”

Instead of the beautiful soft voice he was accustomed to, Lancelot could hear a raspy mumbling coming from behind the mask.

“Are you unwell my dear lady?”

“No, I don’t feel like talking.”

Lancelot frowned. “But your voice sounds different. Even taking into account the mask.”

“I have a frog in my throat.”

“Would you care to dance?” He held his hand out for her and she silently agreed, nodding in approval and allowing herself to be led to the dancefloor.

Before the dance commenced, they stood facing one another and Lancelot looked into the blue eyes of his lady. “I must say, your eyes are quite spectacular. I do not recall them being so vivid.”

There was a giggle. They took hands and Lancelot was about to move her around him when he noticed the shoes of the lady were not elegant or elaborate but in fact appeared to be muddy old boots. Why on earth would a lady such as Lady Angela wear such monstrosities?

“My dear lady, whatever has happened to your feet?” he asked, standing back.

There was a silence and then an awkward mumble. Lancelot noticed something familiar in the way Lady Angela moved and it wasn’t the way she normally did. In fact, it was very masculine, very fidgety and childish. His face reddened, hoping he was imagining it.

He reached forward and snatched the mask away. He gasped as the angelic young face of his squire, Brian, stood staring back at him.

“Lancelot! When you hear what a story this is, you’ll laugh!”

“Brian! You’ll be dead before I hear it. What on earth possessed you to dress up and slander fair Lady Angela in this way?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it, Lancelot. But she couldn’t make it and I knew you’d be upset and well…I didn’t want you to look a fool.”

“And yet here I am, dancing with my squire who’s wearing a dress!”

Brian lowered his head. “You were never meant to know. Sorry, Lancelot.”

Lancelot softened, able to see the kindness in Brian’s act. “Alright, I’ll forgive you. And you know, I did start to worry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t remember Lady Angela smelling like she’d slept in the stables all day.”

Brian laughed. “Ah she may smell of roses, but I have the most vivid blue eyes, eh Lancelot?”

Lancelot grabbed his ear. “Don’t be cheeky. Get me a drink and take that stupid gown off.”


	8. Only When I Laugh-Figgis and Glover- Rain

With a sigh, Glover stared out of the window and held his pillow close to his chest.

“What’s the matter, Glover?” Figgis said, arriving beside his bed and sitting down.

“It’s raining.”

“So it is,” Figgis said. “Well its good to get a bit of rain. How else you think those daffodils get so sprightly?”

Another sigh emanated from Glover.

“What is it now?” Figgis asked, looking at the droplets of water as they made their way down the pane.

“Three days in a row now. It just reminds me of old times, that’s all. Mother and I trapped inside on raining days, warm by the fire, doing a jigsaw puzzle whilst waiting for father to return.”

“Ah well, see, that’s nice! At least you had a warm fire. My dad sent me out in the rain to fetch the dinner and I had holes in me socks! And when I got home, there was a leaky roof, rained on me all night. Still, I learnt to appreciate it.”

There was a moment’s silence as the two men gazed outside, almost mesmerised by the heavy downpour.

Figgis nudged Glover. “Here we go, isn’t that Norman out there saying goodbye to his latest lady friend? One of the patients this time, being discharged apparently.”

“Another one? How does that pipsqueak get so much female attention? And why is he standing there getting wet when he has an umbrella in his hand?”

“And you call yourself a gentleman, can’t you see he’s holding it for her?”

“I can’t see a jot in this rain.”

“He’s in love, man. Look, he doesn’t care about the rain soaking his pyjamas as long as she’s dry.” He laughed. “Look, he’s wiping a little raindrop from her nose as though it were a teardrop. Puts you in quite the romantic mood, doesn’t it?”

Glover folded his arms. “Not for me. I used to be that man holding the umbrella over a beautiful woman, now I’m in here…well…with you.”

With a wide grin, Figgis placed his arm around his shoulder. “Well, you can always place an umbrella over me if you like. Folks might talk but we’ll be alright.”

“Since when are you a beautiful woman, Figgis?”

“Oh, I see, not good enough for ya now! Too plain, too poor, too shabby. Norman would never treat me like this.”

“Figgis, I repeat this and slightly louder…you’re not a woman.”

“Not with that attitude I’m not.”

Glover sighed and then looked wistfully back outside the window. “He’s giving her a kiss. His slippers are soaked through.”

“He’ll be doing tap dancing in a minute. Gene Kelly of the Jack the Ripper Ward. Nah, I like the rain, it’s got a romantic feel to it. And not only that but it’s great when you’re out in the lorry and you splash unsuspecting victims on the pavements!”

“Roy!” Glover gasped. “You don’t really do that?”

“Tory or two. Blimey, you needn’t look so shocked, I’m not running ‘em over, though they deserve it. I’m giving ‘em a simple splashing. It’s only a little baptism.”

“Well you shock me, Roy. How one can talk of romance the one minute and then mowing people down the next I’ll never know.” He looked away from Figgis and back to the scene outside. “Good god, what is he trying to do with that umbrella?”

“Looks stuck, can’t get it down…the umbrella I mean. Oh, here he goes!”

They both grimaced at the same time. “Ouch.” They both said together.

“He may need stitches for that!” Figgis said.

“Poor devil, what a way to end a liaison. Well, at least he’s got us, eh Roy?”

Figgis put his arm around Glover. “Yeah. We’re like his snooping parents.”

“You’re not a woman, Figgis!”

“Still, I like the rain.”


	9. Raffles- Skinny dipping

Under a blanket of stars in the summer night air, we sat together in contemplation, watching the water ripple ever outwards as we skimmed stones across the lake. The day had been scorching hot and the late evening had brought relief, not simply in its coolness but in its tranquillity and we’d sat for hours, doing absolutely nothing.

After Raffles had been declared the victor of our stone throwing game, I gazed at him, taking a moment to look upon his dazzling eyes– and the corner of his lips which curled—telling me there was mischief within him.

“What are you plotting, A.J?”

He feigned innocence as though he were utterly offended. “What possible crime could one commit here, my dearest Rabbit?”

“I can think of one or two.”

He smiled. He seemed to enjoy the implication.

“I wondered whether we might take a dip in the lake, shed our garments and surrender ourselves to it. It’s not quite blue champagne but it’s divine all the same.”

I felt my cheeks reddening. I was no stranger to being without clothes in Raffles’ presence having been together many times at the Turkish baths, but we’d never swam naked together under the stars. I of course couldn’t resist the invitation and so followed suit as he disrobed and stood proudly, comfortable in his own form. Within seconds I was as naked as he and I scrambled behind some foliage, feeling a sudden shyness at being so exposed to the elements. I could feel the dry soil beneath my toes which were then wet near the water’s edge.

“Come on, Bunny, time to get your fluffy tail wet!” he called as I saw him disappear into the lake.

The moon cascaded down upon the water and for a brief moment I felt it could’ve been some exotic lagoon. In the moonlight I saw Raffles submerge before rising to the surface moments later.

“Bunny, join me!” he called again.

I was so far from him that he looked like a silhouette in the distance. I made my way to his side, splashing about, feeling the cool liquid pass over my hot skin. It felt so liberating. I swam to Raffles’ side and under the moonlight his features sparkled.

“Caught me at last,” he said, grinning.

Suddenly his arms were around my chest and he was wrestling with me.

“You fiend!” I cried. “An unprovoked attack!”

Using my legs, I wrapped them around him until we were both thrashing wildly and laughing like schoolboys. When we stopped, we were looking at each other and I felt his damp lips upon mine. The world stopped. Time ceased. How little I cared about anything else at that moment.


	10. Callan- Rose Tinted Glasses- Callan and Meres

“Well this is new,” Meres said, looking down at the handcuffs that connected his wrist to Callan’s.

The last thing he expected was to be outwitted by a woman and sharing the tube journey back to base with a very irritated colleague chained to him.

They sat down on the seat of the carriage and looked at one another. An awkwardness swept over them, especially knowing the looks they’d get and what everyone would say once they returned.

“Well we certainly were both wearing rose-tinted glasses today,” Callan sighed. “She played you like a violin, played right to your vanity, Toby.”

“She also played you equally, old boy, only with you she put on an act that made you powerless to resist her vulnerability. Still, it could be worse I suppose. We could be dead.”

Callan rubbed his sore wrist. “I could also not be spending Monday morning handcuffed to you.”

“I don’t know…it is rather…kinky?” He laughed.

“Could you please say that louder, I don’t think the geezer in the next carriage heard you?”

“Certainly!” Meres raised his arm so their handcuffs were visible to everyone. “We were in the bathroom together, had a little trouble getting out of the cuffs.” He laughed, peering at Callan, hoping he’d annoyed him.

“I’m gonna sock you one in a minute, mate.”

“I’d like to see you try, David. If I’m unconscious you’ll find it darned tricky to move about.”

“Just be quiet until we can get these damned things off. You haven’t got any tools with you have you?”

Meres sighed. “Not unless you want me to get out my concealed weapon on the tube. Could cause a bit of a panic.”

“That really would cause a mad dash for the exit.”

“So, looks as though we’re stuck, old boy. We shall just have to get used to being so close to one another.”

Callan sighed and leaned up against the window. “Bloody great.”


	11. Justice- James' Visit

As Rosie handed Harriet a typed-up document, they heard a joyful whistling noise coming from the doorway. Harriet had never heard Bill whistle before, it seemed so unlike him and was about to mention it when she looked up and instead saw her former colleague James Eliot standing inside the door frame, leaning casually against it, still whistling the merry tune. Instead of a sharp suit and tie, he was dressed in jeans and an open collared shirt and had grown a beard. 

“My goodness, James, is that you?” Harriet said, a smile erupting on her face at seeing her old friend.

“The one and only.” He moved over to her and kissed her cheek. “Hope you don’t mind me stopping by for a visit.”

He next crossed over to where Rosie sat, looking up at him with sparkling eyes of excitement. “Mr. Eliot!”

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie, oh light of my life, how I’ve missed your face.” He leaned down and kissed her soft blonde hair. “How have you been, angel?” He presented her with a single rose. 

She held the rose to her chest and sighed happily. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Eliot. I’ve been well. I see you’ve got a tan.”

He smiled. “Indeed I have, my dearest Rosie.”

Harriet folded her arms. “When you’ve quite finished flirting, James, I’d really like to have a proper look at you.”

He stood up straight, ready for her inspection. She walked around him and tutted. 

“This gallivanting off and writing on an island has made you much scruffier. No suit? And what’s that on your chin?” She laughed.

“Don’t you like it? Jenny thinks it’s quite becoming.”

“Jenny… may need glasses.”

Laughing, James took Harriet’s arm in his. “Come on, you must be in need of a break what with all your new responsibilities. How about a drink? I’ll pay.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

…

Nearby, in a pub located near the chambers, James brought the drinks to the table and sat down next to Harriet. He glanced her over. She looked more or less the same but she seemed even more glowing somehow, contented maybe, full of spirit and determination. He’d missed their lively conversations and playful moments. 

“And how are things in the world of Harriet, or should I say Mrs. Moody? I was quite disappointed not to get an invite to the wedding.”

“Oh really, James, I explained perfectly well in that letter that it was a hasty ceremony.”

James laughed. “No, I’m very happy for you both. But really Bill a best man?”

“He was still around, unlike some.”

“You sent me away to write a book.”

“You chose to write a book!”

“You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, admit it.”

Sipping her drink, Harriet’s eyebrow rose, not answering for several moments. “I made the decision for you. But you’re mistaken if you think I wanted rid of you.”

“So, you have missed me?” He let out a wide grin.

“Enough of that. How is this elusive book coming along?”

“I’ve done three chapters.”

“In a year! Is that all?” Harriet sighed. “I suppose with all those island maidens to tempt you.”

“Nothing of the sort. I’m just taking my time. Anyway, when are you and Ian coming to visit me?”

“When does one find the time?” She picked up the drinks menu and glanced over it.

James took the menu away from her. “No excuses. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“In that case, I’ll talk with Ian. But I think you’ll have finished your book before I have a gap in my schedule.”

Taking her hand in his, James squeezed it tightly. “I have missed you, Harriet.”

“You’ll make me cry in a minute.”

“I’m serious.”

“You don’t want your job back?”

“No, no,” he laughed, letting her hand go and staring upwards. “I’m just glad to be back for a visit. The new life is going well but there’s something about home that I miss. And these chambers and your voice bossing me about every morning, and Bill’s flustering.”

“Not the law then?”

“Sometimes. Oh, I don’t know. I’m restless. When I’m there, I want to be here. Here I want to be there.”

“Oh well that’s charming.”

“You know what I mean. Ignore me.”

“You’re brooding again, James. It’s only been a year. You’re still figuring it all out. You’re still young, you’re transitioning to a new place.”

“When did you get so clever?”

“Get clever? Honestly, James.” There was a brief pause before Harriet finished the last of her drink. “Well, come on then. You’ve taken me for a drink. Why don’t you come for dinner tonight? You can bring Jenny.”

“She’s visiting relatives.”  
“Alone?”

“You should see the relatives. Think I’m safer with you, even if you are bossy. Will Ian be joining us?”

“Ian will not. Just when you get back in the country, he goes out of it. So, I’m afraid It’ll just be me.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“You can read me some of this book of yours. Sounds like you could use some help.”

“I could do with a chapter four.” He laughed. 

Helping Harriet from her seat, he linked his arm through hers as they left the pub and walked out to where the sun was beginning to set. 

“I did miss you, Harriet.”

“You already said that. How much did you drink?”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Flatterer.”


	12. Adam Adamant Lives- At the Beach

With circling seagulls overhead and the sound of noisy chatter, Georgina climbed out of the back seat of the car and into the sunshine.

Adam Adamant joined her and then sighed as he looked for signs of danger across the long stretch of sand. “Miss. Jones, you’ve lured me to this beach under false pretences.”

Georgie laughed and jumped onto the sand. “Whoopee. It’s not a lie, really, it’s sort of a problem. Look, little Timmy is cheating at the sandcastle competition.”

“Miss. Jones, a child’s sandcastle hardly constitutes a national emergency.”

“I knew you wouldn’t come if I didn’t exaggerate slightly.”

“Slightly?”

“Well, while we’re here, let’s at least have a bit of a dip in the sea.” She handed her bag to Simms and started to take off her sundress.

Adam gasped. “Really, Miss. Jones, is there not some beach hut in which to remove one’s garments?”

“Nonsense, I’m done now,” she replied, slipping off the dress to reveal a floral bikini underneath. “Isn’t it fab? Got it new yesterday, Carnaby Street.”

Averting his eyes, Adam accidentally caught a glimpse of the two-piece. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“This is the rest of it. Honestly, Adam, you’ll have to get used to the latest gear if you’re here for good.”

“There are some things on this present-day Earth that I refuse to ‘get’ used to.” She laughed as she saw Adam glance at the lack of clothing on most of the sun revellers.

Simms laughed and began to recite a limerick with glee: “Miss. Jones is quite fond of stripping. This girl could do with a whipping. So let’s disembark, and go to the park, before we all end up nude dipping.”

“Simms, would you mind?”

“Sorry.”

Georgie threw her arms around Simms’ shoulder. “Oh, come on, don’t be spoilt sports, let’s all go for a swim.”

“I’m not suitably dressed,” Simms replied. “I’ll just sit on the sand and catch some of the sunshine, miss.”

“Adam?” She tilted her head, gesturing toward the sea. Her tongue peeked out from her lips.

“These tailored garments hardly lend themselves to…paddling.”

“You must be roasting in that gear.”

“Do not concern yourself, Miss. Jones, I shall remove my jacket.”

“Ooh living dangerously!” she remarked as she waited for him to remove it, and then linked her arm through his.

“I think you forget, Miss. Jones, going anywhere with you is living dangerously.”


	13. Callan- Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callan is ill, Meres brings soup.

The phone rang, waking Callan from under his blanket, tucked up in his bed snugly. His face was sweating, his eyes bleary, his body trembling. He rolled over and managed to reach the phone with his shaking hand.

“Hello?” he croaked, feeling as though the phone was stuck to his hand and that he was floating in another world.

There was a deep voice talking to him down the phone. “David, so you’re not dead, old boy?” 

“Who’s this?”

“I’m offended. You cannot recognise the voice of your favourite colleague?”

“Toby?”

“I’m your favourite? Well that I am surprised. You really do sound rough, old boy. Whatever is wrong?”

Callan licked his dry lips, attempting to speak but his words mostly came out hoarse. “It’s something the medics call influenza, been around quite a while apparently.”

Meres laughed. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humour.”

“What do you actually want?” Callan said. “The last thing I need right now is your voice at the end of the telephone. I’d rather have Lonely give me advice on hygiene.”

“Touchy! Touchy! You need to get well. You’re needed.”

“Leave me to die in peace!”

“I’ll bring over your homework, a few files to peruse.”

Suddenly the phone cut dead from Callan’s end. “Callan? Callan?” Meres called. He smirked as he put down the receiver and picked up a file.

When he arrived at Callan’s flat, the door was left open a crack and Callan was crawling on his hands and knees towards the sofa. Meres smirked as he kicked the door shut with his foot.

“Late night on the tiles?” Meres laughed. “Or should that be bathroom tiles?”

Callan managed to look upwards and see the smug but somewhat handsome face of Toby Meres looking down upon him. “I’m going to sock you one in a minute, mate.”

“I’d love to see you try. Come on, take a swing at me. You’re a tortoise at the moment, David. Oh, do come out of your shell.”

With a groan, Callan managed to hoist himself onto the sofa where he whimpered like a small animal in pain and hugged his knees to stop the tremors.

Meres touched his forehead. “I could fry a breakfast on you. Speaking of which, have you eaten?”

“Funnily enough, no.”

“You must keep your pecker up. Here I made you some soup.”

Callan looked at him with suspicion. Why on earth was Meres making him soup? Had he stumbled into some parallel universe or had the delirium finally taken hold of his mind?

“You made me soup?”

“Well no, I didn’t make it, obviously, but I brought it here to make sure you’re keeping hydrated and nourished. I’ll heat it up.”

Callan managed to lean up and grabbed Meres’ collar. “Who are you and where’s the real Toby? And what is in this soup? Poison?”

“My, my, you are delirious. As if I would poison someone. That is a woman’s method. If I were to kill you I’d do it in a way that was a lot more gratifying to me. Now, sit still, be quiet and wait for me to prepare you the soup.”

…

Meres sat beside Callan on the sofa, holding the bowl underneath his chin. “Would you like to drink it or have me spoon feed you?”

“You’ll be wearing it in a minute, why can’t you back up an inch or two?”

Meres threw down the spoon onto the table in annoyance. “Aren’t you a bad-tempered patient? I am under strict instructions to get you well again so you can look over these files. Now be a good chap and let me feed you soup!”

Sighing, Callan gave in and motioned to the bowl, after all he was ravenous and his mouth was so dry.

Meres held the spoon to Callan’s mouth. “Here comes the aeroplane!”

“That’s it,” Callan said, stealing the spoon from his grasp, “I can feed myself. I am not an invalid.”

“You’re a baby, that’s for certain.”

“Do you need to be so close?”

“You’re the one who’s sweaty and clammy. I might need to take a bath after this.”

After Callan had begrudgingly eaten some soup, he closed his weary eyes and let Meres take away the bowl and place it in the kitchen sink. By the time Meres returned, Callan was snoring lightly, soup residue still on his chin.

Meres laughed. “What a pretty picture.” He wiped the soup from Callan’s chin with his handkerchief and then pulled a blanket over him, wrapping it around him and tucking him in. “I’ll leave this file here for you to look over when you’re more with it. Sleep tight, David, old boy, get well soon.”


	14. Justice- The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is a little tied up...

Staring up at the stage from the front row of the theatre, James Eliot passed a bag of sweets to Harriet and with a mouthful said: “Wine gum?”

“No, thank you, James,” she replied before having to swat his hand away as he attempted to pass the bag of sweets across her to where Ian sat on the other side of her.

She had wondered why they’d all agreed to Bill’s suggestion of a work outing to a magic show but Bill was interested and they didn’t want to offend, so there they sat, all in a row— Bill, then Rosie, James, Harriet and finally Ian (who did not work with them but who Harriet insisted on inviting.)

“She’s marvellous, isn’t she?” James whispered to Harriet as he looked at the magician’s assistant. “Lovely legs.”

“Yes, I see that. You watch out for her James; she’d eat you alive.” 

“I hope so.” He grinned, nudging her.

…

Sitting up in bed, placing her glasses on and opening her novel, Harriet sighed contently, happy to be home after a disastrous night at the work outing. Why Bill hadn’t arranged a simple drink at the pub was anyone’s guess.

Suddenly the telephone started to ring and Harriet glanced at the clock. She looked over at Ian who was already snoring.

“Oh, who could that be?” She picked up the telephone. “Hello? Harriet Peterson speaking.”

“Harriet, I need your help. It’s James. I want you quick.”

“James? You do know it’s gone one?”

“Harriet, please, just come over right now, it’s urgent. And bring that spare key.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be there. What’s the matter, are you injured?”

“HURRY UP.” The phone cut dead.

…

When Harriet arrived, she let herself in and searched around downstairs expecting to find him hurt. She cautiously made her way up the stairs when she couldn’t find him.

“James?” she called.

“I’m in the bedroom.” His voice was a whisper behind the closed door.

“Well come out of the bedroom and tell me why you’ve got me up at this hour.”

“I can’t…I’m a little…tied up.”

With a gulp, Harriet opened the door and stepped inside. She jumped in shock at the sight of her colleague James Eliot lying naked on the bed with one hand handcuffed to the post. He had a bashful look painted across his face. 

“Oh my.” She bit her lip to stop a giggle and then averted her eyes. “That was more than I was intending to see.”

“Don’t laugh, Harriet. I called you here because I didn’t trust anyone else. Get me out of this.”

“First things first, cover you up.” She grabbed a blanket and threw it over his lower half. “Secondly, I’d rather like an explanation with as little explicit detail as possible.”

“Can you talk to me as a friend and not as a barrister?”

“Very well. What have you been up to?”

“You remember that magician’s assistant?”

“With the nice legs?”

“Very nice legs but she isn’t so nice. She’s done a disappearing act after handcuffing me to this bed! Luckily she left one hand free so I could use the phone!”

Harriet smirked. “I hate to say I told you so, James, but I did warn you.”

“How did you know oh enlightened one?”

“Women’s intuition.”

“Oh of course. Such barrister talk! No facts, no details, simply you had a feminine feeling. Get me out of this handcuff, Harriet!”

Harriet attempted to undo the cuffs, feeling rather awkward as she leaned over him. “No key?”

“She took the blasted set with her.”

“I’ll check around. Don’t go anywhere.” She laughed.

“I could go off you, Miss. Peterson!”

Harriet left the room and returned moments later waving the key between her fingers. “This might be it. Perhaps she had a conscience after all. Left them on the worktop. Found your wallet though and I’m afraid she’s done a disappearing act with your money too.”

“Bitch.”

Undoing the handcuffs, Harriet helped James to sit upright where he began to rub his aching wrist. 

“You won’t tell anyone about this, will you, Harriet?”

Harriet pouted. “Oh, not anyone?”

“No!” James discreetly stood up with the blanket wrapped around him like some kind of toga. “Well, turn around then.”

“It’s too late to spare my blushes now, I’ve seen the crown jewels.”

“Yes, well they’re no longer on display so avert your gaze, madam.”

“Very well.” She folded her arms and turned around, listening as he scrambled to the wardrobe and quickly put some clothes on. “Are you decent? Well decent enough?”

“Yes.”

She turned back around. “You know, James, you must be more careful about which girls you bring home. I refuse to come out at night to rescue you from saucy nocturnal activities!”

“Understood.” James couldn’t look at Harriet then, bowing his head and blushing. “Let me get you a cup of tea.”

“Something stronger, I think. I’ve had quite a shock.”

He led her to the kitchen where they started to make the tea. 

“You’ve had a shock?” James rubbed his head. “I’ve had the shock of my life.”

“You’re forgetting. I saw you naked.”

James laughed. “I’m so glad I have a friend like you, Harriet.”


	15. Callan- Two Men and a Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callan, Meres and...a baby.

Arriving at Callan’s place, Meres knocked on the door, rat-tapping a tune on the wood as he waited for a reply. He began to whistle.

“Come on, David, old boy, I’m getting old and useless standing here.” There was no response. “What did you want anyway?” 

He knocked again, harder this time and finally the door opened a crack, where Callan stood, frowning, clutching a baby in his arms.

At first Meres’ eyes widened in surprise and then he let out a laugh. “Well, well, well, David, no one told me you had been expecting. Congratulations.”

With one hand securing the infant and one hand now clutching Meres’ collar, Callan dragged him inside. 

“I’ve no time for your lip, mate. I need your help as much as it pains me.”

“I can see that. Have you never held a baby before, Callan? Little chap is clearly in discomfort.” On that word, the baby began to cry.

Meres took the baby from Callan and bounced it up and down. Within a couple of moments, the baby’s cries had subsided. “Well it’s obvious which of us he likes best. Who on Earth is he, David?”

“Someone left it outside as if I know what to do with it.”

“It?” Meres laughed and looked at the baby. “Look how the horrible man talks to you.”

Callan narrowed his eyes. “What have you done with the real Toby Meres, the one who gets satisfaction in other people’s pain and misery?”

“David, David, David, I take much pleasure in your discomfort, I take even more pleasure in other people’s, but strangely I do not take much from a defenceless infant. I have no desire to interrogate a baby, they can’t answer back and have no idea what I’m saying.”

“Well, never mind that, what are we going to do with him?”

“We?”

“You’ve gotta help me, mate. I can’t look after this baby. It’s bleedin’ dangerous ‘round here, weapons everywhere. Don’t suppose we could take him to a church or something?”

“We could. There are many options.” He looked at the baby and grinned. “Though he’s a little wriggler and in need of a little care and attention and it may have escaped your notice, old son, but he was left here for a reason. There’s something in that. This isn’t some accident.”

“Then you’ll stay and look after him whilst I look into it?”

Meres grabbed Callan’s arm and tutted. “Don’t think you can leave all this babysitting to me. I’m also a busy man, in case you’d forgotten. I’ll ring someone at the office, get them to look into it and maybe get Liz around here pronto. Women love babies. In the meantime, let’s both stay here and clean him up, he smells like he’s been kipping with Lonely.”

…

“No, David, check the water isn’t too hot!”

Sitting beside the bath tub, Callan sighed, rubbing his aching head. “Don’t make this any more degrading than it already is, mate.”

Meres was next to him, peering over the tub, ready to lower the baby into the lightly soapy water.

“What do you suppose his name is?” Callan smiled as Meres gently placed the baby into the tub.

“No idea. Perhaps we should call him something. Brutus?”

“No mate. If you name something, you’re attached. It’ll think I’m its father and you’re its, gawd help us, its mother!”

“No, you’re the first person he saw so you’re the mother. Well go on mumsy, give the fellow a little scrub. Got any rubber duckies?”

Callan scowled and rung out a wet flannel onto Meres neck. “No, I do not. When is Liz getting here?”

“Oh, sorry did I forget to mention? She isn’t coming. She said that just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she knows anything about child rearing and then she said good luck. Actually, it was less polite than that. The phone was slammed down too.”

“Any more on the reason he’s here then?”

“Not a word so far.” Meres laughed when the little baby let out a sneeze. “He’s having a bit of an adventure, isn’t he?”

“You know,” Callan said, rolling up his sleeve and splashing some of the bath water around with his hand. “I didn’t think you’d be so good with babies.”

Meres grabbed Callan’s hand under the water and gripped it tightly until Callan winced. “I’m not, Callan. You never witnessed that. The outside world will never hear of this, you got that?”

“Crystal clear, now let go of my hand! The baby doesn’t need to be subjected to a domestic.”

Meres let go and resumed splashing the baby with water. “I’ll see if there’s something in here he can play with.” As he got up, the gun he carried slid from the side down into the soapy bath water.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Callan said, grabbing the gun. “You wanna explain to Charlie how this little baby took its own life with your weapon?”

“Whoops. I forget, they’re into everything at this age. Must be careful where I leave guns.”

“I take it back, Toby. You’re not good with children at all.”

“Better than you are, that’s for sure.”

“You dropped…your gun…in the bath!”

“You nearly scalded him!”

“Your face alone is scaring him,” Callan snapped.

“You couldn’t even tell he was a he!”

“Of course I could.” Callan slammed his fist on the side of the tub. “Look, mate, this is getting us nowhere. We’re both useless at this, the end.”

At his raised voice, the baby began to giggle, looking wide-eyed and curiously from Callan to Meres and then back again. 

Meres and Callan’s heads leaned to the right at the same time.

“You’ve gotta admit he’s more cooperative than our usual suspects,” said Meres.

“And much cuter. Well, when his nappy’s not being changed.”

They both sat staring then over the bath tub, cooing at the little one.

“You know,” Meres said, with a smile. “There could be a much simpler explanation to all this.”

“What’s that?”

“He could be yours.”

Callan held up Meres’ gun. “Get out!”

“Temper, temper. No gunplay in front of your son. David junior must be raised well for any success in life.”

Callan aimed the gun. “Right between the eyes if you carry on.”


	16. Callan- Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Chippa. Happy Birthday!

Sitting in a parked car by the side of the road, Callan and Meres watched a house across the street. Seated in the driver’s seat, Callan yawned and looked at his watch. “Midnight.” 

Meres checked his own watch as though he didn’t trust Callan’s inferior timepiece. “So it is, old boy.”

“Feels like we’ve been here all day.”

“Practically have. When’s he going to come out?”

Callan sniffed. “Probably got a bird in there.”

“How cosy for him.” Meres also yawned and then looked to the house on the side of the street they were parked. He looked up at the window where a young woman was starting to undress. She quickly closed the blinds as Callan noticed his colleague was looking.

“Shame,” Meres said.

“You peeping Tom!” Callan said.

“Says the guy with the binoculars around his neck.”

“They’re for what-his-face over the road not a bird.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t look as good in a bra.”

“You little perverted creature.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. God’s creations, David. Besides I wasn’t looking at the woman, I was looking at the bird.” He smirked.

“Bird?”

“The parrot in the window just there,” he smirked again as he pointed to the window where true enough a green parrot was in a cage in the bay window.

Callan laughed. “You sly bastard.” There was a pause. “Ah another day in paradise.”

“Indeed.” Meres pursed his lips and started to whistle. “Another day has arrived. Rather an important day one shouldn’t wonder.”

“What you blabbering on about?”

“Oh, you are an ignorant bastard, David. You have no idea what today is?”

Callan looked away, staring intently at the house where there was some movement behind the curtains. “We have a job to do here, Toby, not playing guess what -bloody- day it is. And I know what day it is, Valentine’s Day. I do know about the occasion.”

“Important day for two reasons, David. One, it’s the day of love, and two, it was the day in which I came into this world.”

With a snort, Callan looked at Meres for a moment. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yes, one should’ve thought you’d pick up on it, I’ve mentioned it every day for the last month.”

“Don’t always listen to what you’re saying, mate. Anyway, your birthday is Valentine’s Day, bloody hell?”

“What of it?”

“A day dedicated to hearts and flowers and little dancing bunnies and kittens. Declaring love and buying teddy bears. Don’t know why my mind didn’t go straight to Toby Meres?”  


“If you knew me at all, David, you’d be surprised.”

“Oh, I would, would I?” Callan nodded mockingly. “Another year older eh?”

“That is usually how it works. Birthdays. One can hardly age in reverse though that would be rather fun.”

“Yeah, well unfortunately for you, mate, you’re ageing like the rest of us in the right order.” 

“Not quite at your speed though, old man!”

Clutching at his forehead, Callan shuffled, ignoring the gaze of Meres from the passenger seat. He was silent for a few moments, trying to imagine that Meres wasn’t next to him, preening himself in front of the mirror as if he were the parrot in the window.

“Must you do that?”

Meres sat back. “So, I can’t even look my best on my birthday?”

“We’re on a job, we’re not on a catwalk, sunshine.”

“David, you would never be on a catwalk, I can assure you of that. And stop going on, I know perfectly well what we’re doing but in case you haven’t realised we’ve been sitting here for seven hours and the sod’s not even made a movement. Perhaps they’re all dead in there with any luck.”

“Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean we have to have a party.”

“Why not celebrate the day you were born? I should be back at mine with a drink and bird.”

“Well, you’re not, you’re here with me and a bird in the window.”

Meres smirked. “And after I was no nice to you on your birthday.”

“Yes, that rude card that went straight in the bin.”

“Ungrateful swine.”

“I don’t even know how you knew it was my birthday.”

“Well, I know your file, David, and I can find out many secrets about you. So, I don’t think it was too much of a challenge. It’s now written in my diary with little pink hearts around it so I don’t forget. It says in quite big letters ‘DC’s birthday’ and that’s David Callan not Washington DC.”

Callan rolled his eyes. “You’d think you were the first person to work on their birthday.”

“This isn’t working, this is sitting and spying but not the fun kind.”

“Your gun can’t be out at all times.”

Meres raised an eyebrow. “On my birthday I can have whatever out at whatever time I wish, David, and how can you stop me if your gun is quite firmly tucked away?”

“Toby, will you just leave off?”

“No, I’m waiting for you to say it.”

“To say what?” Callan looked at him.

“Well, it’s been a full half an hour.” He looked at his watch. “Yes, half an hour and you still haven’t said it.”

“Said what Toby?”

“You still haven’t wished me a happy birthday. Or Valentine’s for that matter.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t, old son, you did anything but. And I’ll sit here like this until you do. It’s only polite.”

With a grumpy sigh, Callan took a deep breath. “Fine. Happy…Birthday…Mate. Many happy returns and all that.”

Meres shook his head and tutted. “My heart skips a beat when you’re so sincere.”

“Just have a bloody happy birthday will you and stop bothering me?”

“And Valentine’s Day?”

“You want me to wish you a happy Valentine’s day too?”

“I don’t ask for much.”

“Fine. Happy Valentine’s Day, happy Lent and Christmas and Easter and Ramadan, just accept all the greetings at once. You are blessed with Callan’s eternal wishes, is that fine by your eternal greatness?”

Meres snorted. “Well, there’s no need to be over the top, old son, all I wanted was my colleague to say a simple birthday wish.”

“And you got it, didn’t you? Anything else you really want? Present, cake, candles, plane flying across the air saying how much you mean to me?”

Meres started to laugh. “No but you could appreciate my birthday suit.”

“You what?” Callan spluttered.

Meres pointed down at his fine tailored suit. “Savile Row.”


End file.
